Works Hard for the Money
by wankywriter
Summary: GKM: G!P Rachel decides to lose her virginity to a prostitute, Quinn finds out and they make a deal.
1. Chapter 1

Somehow Quinn finds out and since she needs money for Beth (she kept her) she offers Rachel a deal: Rachel will give her the money and she'll let Rachel fuck her. Rachel accepts.  
The first times Rachel leaves after sex, leaving the money on the table, but after a while Rachel raises her pay and stay all night fucking Quinn and sleeping there too.

Bonus for:  
- Rachel interacting with Beth and being sweet and caring  
- Quinn and Rachel forming a sort of relationship but Rachel continuing to pay  
- they start having sex at school too, maybe when Quinn thinks she needs to thank Rachel for something she did for Beth

They have sweet, slow sex too, but Quinn loves feeling like a slut, so when she thinks Rachel is being sweet for too long she pushes Rachel to treat her like a whore, reminding her that she is paying her, etc, and Rachel 'obey': rough!sex, throat fucking, maybe anal, facials and cumming on her body...

Rachel Barbara Berry was the most focused and determined student that many of her teachers will ever come to mentor in their entire careers; it was these traits that they admired about the young singer and thus were able to overlook the other and less appealing idiosyncrasies that occasionally irritated even the most patient of faculty members. She made straight A's, was the captain of over a dozen clubs, and even found time to volunteer at her local soup kitchen every other Sunday despite her rigorous vocal and dance classes. She was destined for NYADA, for the stage, and for her voice to be heard by the masses, and it was this dream that drove her to maintain such a hectic schedule that often left her with little or no time to even consider devoting any of her pressure time towards a romantic interest.

Well, if Rachel was being honest with herself, she didn't really _need _to be the captain of the Business and Marketing Club, or even in the Snowboarding and Skiing club considering she's never attempted either activity for fear of falling and breaking her talent. But, it was a great excuse whenever her Bubbeh would pinch her cheeks and ask, "Why don't you have a nice Jewish girl or boy, eh?" But it would only take a bright smile and a gentle reminder of her schedule before she'd rant about how skinny she was and how she should eat meat.

If Rachel was _really _honest, she'd admit that she was too scared to date due to the cruelty she'd face if anyone found out about her secret, the secret that could ruin any chances of a successful career or even love life. So, she jumped head first into her studies, extracurriculars, and preparation for her inevitable rise to celebrity status. Instead of spending her Friday nights dating, she would play board games with her fathers before dinner and write acceptance speeches for the awards she is going to win in the years to come.

On rare occasions, she found the raging hormones overwhelming and used that energy whenever she gave a performance in Glee, it was a great relief, if only temporary, that left her relaxed enough to make it home and into a cold shower. Even so, she's been finding the grace period isn't lasting as long as usual; her urges are becoming more demanding and showing themselves more frequently, too.

The ever poised and collected Rachel Berry was finding herself staring less into the eyes of the people she talked to, and more at their moving lips as she tried to focus on following the conversation and less time entertaining her over active imagination. Currently, she found herself staring at the lips of her teacher as he recited past tense Spanish verbs; each word went in one ear and out the other as her eyes followed each curve of the li-

"Hey, Mr. Schue! Dame una cerveza, por favor!"

Her body snapped straight at the sudden voice behind her, ripping her from the shudder inducing nightmare that she had succumbed to. A scowl settled on her face, not at the interruption but the content of her thoughts only seconds prior to Noah displaying his maturity level once more.

"Very funny, Puck, try to pay attention because we _will _be having a test on this material next week."

Sure, she had a brief and extremely misguided crush on her teacher a few years ago, but that was a mere lapse in judgment on her part. Rachel couldn't begin to fathom thinking of her teacher in such a way ever again, which was only a testament to her _raging _hormones that not only plagued her thoughts, but the appendage that was currently protesting her lack of teenage experimentation in her spanx.

It had been giving her hell for the past week and half that when she was slushied just two days ago, she could feel it stir down below as the frozen corn syrup slide down the valley between her breasts before it was absorbed by her sweater. Rachel was becoming increasingly frustrated as she faced with another persistent erection when she dealt with one only a few hours ago when Brittany had dropped her phone in the hallway, causing her skirt to fly up for her wandering eyes to gaze upon. Luckily, she was near the gym and only had to endure thirty seconds of Coach Bieste doing a set of reps before she felt her pumping blood slow to a normal rate and the heat pooling in her legs to dissipate.

Unfortunately, she didn't have that option and it was the end of day, meaning she was due to Glee when class was over and that was an activity she refused to miss. If she could just make it through Glee, which hopefully wouldn't be long as Mr. Schue was roped into running after school detention today after Sue somehow planted various novels centered around vampires killing ethnic principals into his desk, which the janitor found and gave to Figgins, she could get home and research any solutions to her rather large and throbbing problem.

A sigh of relief passed her lips when the bell rang, allowing her to slip out of her seat and ease the pressure that had built within the confines of her lower region. She ignored the sea of students pushing and shoving around her as she made a beeline for the choir room at the other side of the school. Not bothering to stop at her locker to retrieve the appropriate materials needed to complete tonight's homework; Rachel pressed on and burst through the choir room doors, immediately taking a seat in the front row and balancing her Spanish book and purse on top of her lap as an attempt to keep her secret, well, a secret.

She swallowed the groan that threatened to pass her lips with the added pressure that felt oh-so-good, and focused on the now filling choir room and certain students she wished to ignore, particularly the lumbering football player who sat in the far corner, away from her own seat. Sure, she _used _to have feelings for one Finn Hudson but with her secret, Rachel knew it would unlikely she'd find someone who would be comfortable and accept her unique condition. She counted her blessings, though, as the more time the pair spent together in Glee, the less she liked the man child. He was immature and threw a fit whenever he didn't get his way, not to mention his homophobic tendencies after she found out what he said to Kurt.

"Alright, guys, I know we've got a lot to do, but today I'm only going to pass out your parts. I want you to look over them for the next few minutes and ask me any questions you may have. I'm watching the after school detention, so we need to be quick." A flurry of paper flew from his hands as he hastily shoved the various music into their hands and walked over to the vacant piano, setting his brief case down and taking a seat at the bench.

She scoffed and shoved the music into her bag, not evening giving the assignment a second look before she stood and walked out the choir room. Rachel Berry is a star, a star that would be able to handle anything that William Schuester threw at her, and so she used this as a perfect excuse to run home.

. . .

Rachel ran up the stairs, ignoring the surprised looks that both of her fathers gave her as she flew up the stairs, barging into her room and dumping her bag on the floor. She closed the door with a bang and immediately tore her skirt and special underwear off, not bothering to contain the moan of relief that escaped her lips. It was during the drive home from school that it turned painful as her erection was held down in the tight confines of her spanx. She jumped onto her bed and sat back against her headboard, her right hand instinctually grabbed the throbbing erection and squeezed. Rachel felt her hips buck as she threw her head back, sending a silent thank you to her fathers for sound proofing her room after the neighbors complained when she was rehearsing for Phantom of the Opera two summers ago. There wasn't a production, but she felt she should be prepared if she is ever offered a roll in the coming years.

Even as she sat there, slowly stroking the thick appendage, she felt almost pathetic that her only source of pleasure was her right, and sometimes left, hand. She knew she was one of the few virgins left in school, and she was the only one to remain in Glee club. Brittany and Santana have been having sex for years, at this point, and even Quinn lost her own virginity to Noah, though the outcome of that night didn't have the best results. Quinn was now left to raise her daughter _and _go to high school, by herself. Sure, she moved back in with her mother and Rachel knew Noah would be helping anyway he could, but most adults aren't ready for a child, let alone a teenager.

Dispelling such thoughts from her mind, Rachel continued to stroke and twist until she emptied herself onto her hand. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath, her eyes remained closed and the tension eased from her body as she basked in the release she has been wanting all day. Rachel always used masturbation as a last minute solution, when she just absolutely had to have satisfaction; her goals were too important to become sex obsessed like one Noah Puckerman, but as her hips shuddered with the still rolling orgasm, Rachel started to have second thoughts.

She knew women wanted sex just as much as men, she said so the first and only time she attended a celibacy meeting in her freshman year, nearly two years ago.

Where would she even find someone willing to have sex with her? None of the girls in school wouldn't be willing to date her due to the rampant homophobia that plagues the school and the town, only someone who was more open minded or even… Someone desperate for money.

Rachel sat up straight and her eyes widened. "That's it! I must search for a women who is in need of financial help and offer payment in exchange for her sexual services and hopefully settle my urges so that I can once again focus on achieving my goal as a Broadway star!"

Jumping out of bed and throwing on a pair of sweat pants, Rachel sat down at her computer and opened Google.

She grinned at the numerous results loading on her screen, but the smile began to fade and her brow began to furrow as she read the links and their summaries. Most were debates about the legality surrounding the issue, while others only discussed the risks one would be taking by pursuing a woman with such loose morals and legs. She perked up once more, though, when she located a link that advertised a business with legal prostitutes, but as her eyes skimmed the page, Rachel became disappointed. This particular establishment was located in Nevada and her hopes were dashed, there was no way she'd be able to afford a trip or even convince her dads to let her go with a good reason.

Rachel Berry was open minded and quite aware of her surroundings despite her outward appearance and what people assume. While prostitution was illegal, it was practiced by many and there was definitely a market for it, she just had to find where they go and how to pick them out from regular people.

She amended her search phrase and began to take notes, while simultaneously researching the shady areas found in Lima, Ohio, where crime was the highest and income was the lowest. She only found one area that met her requirements, one that was frequently mentioned in Glee club when a certain member wanted to intimidate the rest of the student body: Lima Heights Adjacent.

Rachel wet her lips and contemplated her options, she could approach Santana and ask her some questions, but knowing the Latina, she'd be suspicious and not very forth coming with any useful information. Plus, there isn't exactly a subtle way to ask how to find a prostitute in without it being painfully obvious. Her only choice was to stake out the area and keep a look out for regulars during the wee hours of the night. It shouldn't be too bad, if she parks on the main road and keeps a low profile, she might be able to locate such an individual. Google and various forums told her many prostitutes frequented the same street and street corners and while they couldn't really advertise what they were doing, a definite sign was what the woman wore, revealing clothing was used to entice buyers and lure them into a bed.

Powering down her computer, Rachel made the decision. It was Wednesday now, but the best nights would probably be the weekend and so she'd put together a bag of emergency items and sneak out the house after her fathers went to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

I know, no smut. But the next chapter will continue from this one and that WILL have the smut, as it's going to be in the continuation of the last scene.

Hope you guys enjoy this, and sorry if I left anyone down with this chapter.

Chapter Two

Rachel spent the rest of the week planning for her trip, going to Target and purchasing black pants, shoes, a jacket, and even a pair of night vision binoculars that she found in the toy section. She also found a cute sweater, argyle of course, in the clearance rack; it was the last one in her size and it was the cherry on top of her successful shopping excursion.

Later that night, she began putting together a bag of necessities that could prove useful during her reconnaissance mission; a first aid kit, her rape whistle, a can of pepper spray, a few vegan granola bars, a bottle of water, and her favorite book, Broadway Musicals of the 1940s. If she is in need of entertainment, that book and her iPod should be able to offer enough of a distraction if the night was slow. Glancing out the window, she took in the twilight sky and licked her lips while zipping the pink duffel bag closed. Sure, the color _was _rather conspicuous, but she couldn't spend all of her money preparing for the operation when she may need the money for… other activities. She was only glad that she decided to save every single penny for her trip to New York, not that she would really need money for the most part, both of her dad's made a significant amount that she should be okay. You just never know what sort of emergencies may arise and like the United States Coast Guard, Rachel Berry was semper paratus.

A knock on the door tore her gaze away from the window as she whipped her head to face the intrusion; acting quickly, she shoved her duffel bag off the bed and away from any prying eyes.

"Sweetie?" Her daddy cracked the door open and stuck his head through, his eyes covered by a large hand. "Are you decent?"

Rachel swallowed the sigh of relief that begged to escape her lips, instead choosing to say, "Yes, daddy, I am dressed." She tried to not roll her eyes at her father, she loved him but on occasion he had horrible timing.

He dropped his hand from his eyes and smiled, "Dinner should be ready in a few minutes, your dad made vegan enchiladas! Also, we were thinking of breaking out Scrabble after we eat, what do you say?"

Rachel eased her shoulders and tried to subtly release the tension in her body, "I don't know, daddy, I'm feeling rather tired after a long and arduous day. I believe it would be in my best interest for my physical and mental health to forgo Scrabble in favor of a good night's rest. That way I can be ready for another busy day preparing for my career on Broadway." Her voice was lower and more subdued than normal, and she even threw in a yawn at the end for good measure; she wasn't destined for the stage for her determination alone, but her abundant talent that she could harvest and use at any given moment.

Her daddy, Leroy Berry, nodded slowly before speaking, "I agree, baby, you work too hard for a kid your age. Your dad and I sometimes joke that you're an adult trapped in a teenager's body. Just come down stairs in a few minutes, sweetie, I made a fresh batch of that iced tea you like."

Rachel nearly broke character when she heard that, her daddy made the best iced tea and after such a hot day, it sounded like the perfect beverage. "Thank you, daddy, that sounds lovely." She offered him a _tired_ smile before he turned and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. The young singer perked instantly and smiled, she really was looking forward to her daddy's tea, and maybe she could take some with her tonight instead of water? Though that might keep her awake, and it's best to practice moderation when consuming a beverage other than water.

Humming a few bars of one of the many songs in her head, she fell to her knees and peered under her bed, blindly reaching for the bag and dragging it back out. She heaved the strap onto her shoulder and walked over to her window, easing it open, she wedged the bag through the opening and let the strap slide through her fingers before it was dangling at its full length.

Rachel hesitated for only a second before dropping the bag to a patch of Earth nestled between her house and the bushes that ran along the front. She winced at the thump, but knowing her fathers, they were singing and dancing in the kitchen or even arguing about who should win American Idol this season. It was an argument they had every year with each new season, an argument that happened multiple times a week despite her varying power point presentations that she made each year, proclaiming her as the only deserving winner.

A giggle bubbled up from her belly, slipping past her lips as she basked in her conversation with her father, any time she demonstrated her many skills that she has polishing since the tender age of three. Giving her room one last glance, she skipped to the door and thundered down the stairs, eager to speed through dinner and move on to the exciting portion of her night.

She entered the dining room and took her usual seat, smiling at the glass of tea sitting next to her plate and taking in the smell of dinner. She laughed at the antics of her fathers, chiming in when appropriate and eating when it wasn't. Neither of her fathers noticed just how distracted she truly was, nor that she had every intention of breaking their rules and maybe even a law by the end of next week.

**. . .**

It was only a few hours later that Rachel found herself back in her room, pacing from her bedroom door to the window, stopping each time she faced her door to listen for the sounds of her parents going to bed. It was almost ten thirty, and while that was considerably early for a Friday night, she knew her fathers would retire early to catch up on a book for their book club.

She had changed her clothing to hours ago, after she finished dinner and feigning exhaustion for the sake of her dads. Rachel donned her black clothing, even digging up a black snow hat that her father purchased last winter, and waited quietly for the right moment. Her patience was wearing thin, she couldn't do anything to occupy herself as she was nervous her fathers would hear her if they happened to walk by her bedroom door at just the right moment. It left little to do, other than prepare and triple check her gear and plan of attack; she put together a small binder that held multiple tabs for which she could categorize and organize any potential street walkers she may see tonight.

The sound of a door closing rang through her ears and she straightened, her ears straining to pick up any other sounds on the other side of the door, when she heard none, she felt her teeth pull her bottom lip in with excite as she struggled to contain her squeal of excitement, barely able to stop herself from jumping in one spot. Everything was already outside, she just needed to make it down stairs and out the door to her car and bag, and then everything would be set. She grabbed the binder, smiling at the gold star decorations she added in between bouts of pacing and huffing, and swung the door open fast.

Years of experience told her that opening the door at any speed other than fast; it would creak and alert the other occupants of the house to her very awake and moving presence. Rachel swung the door closed just as fast, though slowing down at the end to quietly turn the lock into place, before crouching down. She inched down the hall and to the stairs; earlier in the week she had walked up and down the stairs for an hour at varying speeds, taking note of which steps squeaked at which speed, knowing she would need it for tonight.

She took the steps one at a time, beginning to count as she knew the fifth, eleventh, and twenty second steps were the trickiest of the bunch. She skipped over the fifth step, knowing that no matter what she did, it would creak under even the lightest of touches, and continued her harrowing journey. She mentally congratulated herself for making it that far without any instances, but doing so made her lose count and she froze, knowing that the last couple of steps contained two more squeaky alarms.

She scowled, all of the lights were off and she couldn't count with her eyes, only her feet. Rachel was _almost _positive that she was on number nineteen, but being wrong could be her downfall. Her mouth went dry at the thought, knowing that if she was caught, her dads would certainly take away her car and eight copies of Funny Girl. Inhaling, she knew she had to chance it and continued to count. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, her body shook with pure adrenaline after dodging all three land mines, but her celebration was short lived as she noticed the kitchen light on. The sound of the refrigerator door being shut pushed her into motion as she dove forward, rolling to the back of the couch that faced the stairs and pressing herself into it. It was only moments later that the door to the kitchen swung open, illuminating the room momentarily was her daddy walked past the couch and up the stairs, not giving the girl a second glance.

Her eyes were wide and body tense, she knew she just dodged a bullet and couldn't believe she had been so hasty as to forget her father's customary glass of water before bed. She lied there, breathing heavily and unwilling to move for a few minutes, preferring to wait until her heart beat slowed to a normal pace before standing to her feet.

Rachel was confident that both of her fathers were retired for the night, and casually, but quietly, walked into the kitchen and grabbed her water bottle that she used for school. Filling it with delicious tea, she pivoted and walked quickly out; she was a few minutes behind schedule and needed to move.

Rachel walked out of her house, carefully closing the door and sliding the lock back into place with her key; while she might be breaking a law or two, she didn't want her fathers to have an unexpected break in due to her negligence. She stood pressed against the door, using the threshold as means to stay hidden as she scoped out the street for nosy neighbors or nigh owls, satisfied that no one was watching, she walked through the grass and dropped to her stomach, crawling underneath the bushes to reach for the duffle bag, she felt the material in her hands and closed a fist around it before dragging it through the dirt.

It only took Rachel twenty minutes to reach that side of town, which was not surprising as most of Lima were safely tucked in their beds. She passed the time by doing vocal runs, something she normally does before bed but had to forgo in lieu of her current plans.

Once she entered that part of town, everything looked different from what Rachel was used to. The houses were smaller and more run down, the various stores and gas stations were dark, dreary, and gave her a sense of foreboding. She felt her stomach flip when she chose where to set up camp, she stayed on the main road at a busy, well, busy for a small town, intersection. Rachel pulled her car over to park behind an orange VW Bug that was located in front of a dark house. She was sure that no one would disturb her as long as she kept low and didn't do anything to draw attention to herself.

Pulling out her notebook, she took down the time, 11:43 PM, and began to watch the streets, she only noticed a few people walking during the drive over, but she was hoping more would show themselves as the night wore on.

Ten minutes passed before someone entered her line of vision, it was man that wore baggy pants, a large shirt, and a baseball cap. He looked older, maybe twenty five, and appeared to be talking on the phone. If he wasn't on the other side of the street, Rachel would have rolled her window down to listen in on conversation, it was possible he was a pimp, though he seemed to lack the cane and furry hat that Google described. She began writing furiously under the "Potential " tab, making note of his clothing, age, and any distinguishing features she could make out.

He seemed to be one of the few people venturing out in this area, as it took another forty minutes before Rachel saw anyone else. As luck would have it, there was a group, two girls and one guy, strolling towards her on her side of the street. Rachel observed them for a moment, trying to memorize every detail before she was forced to sink in her seat to avoid detection. Neither of the three gave her a second look as they passed, giving her the chance to sit up and write down their profiles.

Once they disappeared from view, Rachel noticed a distinct lack of cars driving through the area and slumped in her seat. With no cars, why would ladies of the night seek work at this particular intersection? She'd have to relocate, maybe to another side of town where the bars were and traffic was heavy on the weekends.

Still, not one to give up, she would stick it out for another two hours; Rachel was a bad combination of determination and stubbornness. She sat there, the only sound being the tapping of a pen on paper and the occasional passing car. Her mind wandered to her future, as it often did, and towards her lonely life as a single celebrity.

Sure, Lady Gaga's questionable gender only increased her popularity and despite her optimistic nature, Rachel was by no means naïve or ignorant. She knew she would have to face adversity for her condition, if it ever became public knowledge. Though, there is hope that maybe society will have progressed further before that even becomes an issue. Even so, the loneliness was not something she was unaccustomed to, it would just be nice to have someone hold her.

Yawning, Rachel leaned forward in her seat and rested her arms and head on the steering wheel, her eyelids were becoming heavy, making it harder to resist the sweet temptation of sleep. Her breathing slowly evened out, her body relaxing and her mind succumbing to the fog that clo- her head slipped and hit the steering wheel. A short lived _honk _echoed through the night, ripping her mind and body from the dream and sleep state it had been slipping into, pulling her back to reality and the fact that a light had just flipped on in the house she was parked in front of.

Her eyes widened and her body reacted immediately, reaching out for the keys that sat on the dashboard and knocking them to the floor of the passenger door. She tore the seat belt off and dove across the center console, trying to blindly search for the keys before someone caught her red handed. She felt her hand hit the keys further away and under the seat as adrenaline pumped through her veins; she ignored the emergency brake painfully digging into her stomach and glanced at the passenger window. Rachel could only see the sky from her angle, but it looked like someone was shining a light at the car, though they weren't close enough to see her.

Finally grabbing the keys, she sat up and a scream tore through her throat as she tried to locate the key to her car that seemingly disappeared amongst the various key chains decorating the ring.

"Rachel?" Came the muffled voice through the car window, she couldn't make out who the person on the other side of the glass was with the bright light shining through, but she froze at the sound of her name.

Almost as if they read her mind, the silhouette turned the light away from the window and towards their face, "Rachel, it's me, what the hell are you doing here?" revealing the last person she expected to see.

Rachel reached over and unlocked the door and the girl immediately swung the door open and cleared the passenger seat of the multicolored pens and three ring binder, placing them on top of the dashboard before sitting down.

"Qui-Quinn, may I ask why you are located in a questionable area of Lima at such a late hour?"

"Really, Rachel? You're going to ask me that while you're in the same area, sitting outside of Santana's grandmother's house dressed in all black?" Quinn arched a perfectly waxed brow at the singer, and turned her body sideways in the seat, sitting on one foot while the other was perched near the gear shift.

"I believe this is a free country, Quinn Fabray, and that I am allowed to partake in late night drives in clothing of my choice without having to explain myself." She did her best to act affronted, but even with her talent, she couldn't shake the guilt out of her face or tone.

The blonde girl scoffed, "You can when it's a normal hour and you aren't dressed like you're about to murder someone or… knock over the nearest argyle factory." Quinn's tone turned lighthearted when she added the last part, the corner of her mouth twitching as she suppressed the smirk begging to be released.

Rachel scowled and rolled her eyes, "I'll have you know, Quinn Fabray, that I have cut down the amount of argyle in my wardrobe these past four months, especially after Santana started the petition to burn every article of clothing that I own. She seemingly found a way into my home and posted the six hundred and fifty four signatures on my closet door, which admittedly didn't bother me; it wasn't until a week later when I found an empty container of lighter fluid that I took her promise of violence seriously."

The other girl laughed, knowing that the threat was empty, but amusing none the less. "Well, I still would like to know why you look as if you're dressed to murder Santana; you're lucky she passed out an hour ago and didn't come out here. I think she has a brand new container of light fluid sitting in the garage.

Rachel's eyes widened and she flinched, "Like I said, I was merely taking a drive when I felt the need to pull over and rest, it would be completely irresponsible of me to drive if I felt tired as I do not wish to cause any sort of accident."

"Okay, cut the crap, Rachel. Didn't we agree that we were kind of friends? I just don't understand why you would be out here." Quinn's gaze caught flickered to the back seat, "What is this bag? Did something happen?"

A tongue snaked out to moisten dry lips as her eyes darted around the car, landing periodically on the binder resting upon the dashboard, "Nothing, Quinn, I merely wanted to be prepared for any possible outcome and thus grabbed the necessary supplies for my midnight drive through Lima."

She raised her eyebrow once again, leveling Rachel with a look that portrayed her disbelief at the false tale; instead, she paused for a beat before springing to action. Quinn grabbed the driver's seat pulled herself through the front seats and into the back, pawing at the zipper of the bag.

"No! Quinn, that is my private property and I will call the authorities for violating my privacy and property!" Quinn ignored the diva and ripped the bag open before she felt two hands wrap around both elbows, the two girls wrestled in what started out as a fierce match of strength, the two girls grunting as Rachel climbed into the back seat and pushed herself in between Quinn and her goal.

Quinn began wedging herself between the two, pushing Rachel against the door and towards the seat with her back to the girl while simultaneously pulling the bag away. In the end, Rachel was pinned to the seat while Quinn sat on her lap and used her body weight to an advantage as she struggled against the flailing arms a furious Rachel Berry.

Quinn yelped when she felt teeth sink into the back of her neck, but she ignored it and opened the bag, finally able to peer inside when the girl underneath her fell limp with defeat.

"So, you needed all this stuff just for tonight? I'm sorry, but you're not doing anything to convince me that you're _not _planning to kill someone, or running away, for that matter."

"Just drop the issue because quite frankly, it's really none of your business and I don't know why you feel the need to put your nose where it does not belong." She huffed and puffed underneath Quinn, mostly from exertion but partially from anger and frustration, "A girl your age and raised in a town such as Lima, Ohio would simply not understand."

Quinn tossed the bag into the front seat and slipped off Rachel's lap, "That's not fair, Rachel, how can we be kind of friends when you're acting like I didn't just catch you spying on Santana."

"I wasn't even aware that Santana's grandmother lived here! I was just resea-" Rachel abruptly closed her mouth, her eyes widened in surprise before they narrowed, leveling Quinn with a glare, "You did that on purpose, Quinn Fabray! My secret is of a very sensitive subject, one that could not only endanger my life due to the ignorance and hatred of others, but it could also humiliate me and prevent a career on Broadway."

Quinn let a breathy laugh lose and even had the decency to look guilty, "Is it so wrong of me to try and help? This is our senior year, Rachel, and you will be going to New York before we know it. I know we've settled our differences for a while, now, but I'm going to remain in Lima for the rest of my life. You will become this huge star that I can brag to Beth about when she's older, but the time I have to make up everything I have done to you, is running out."

"Nothing would have prepared you for such a social taboo, I just can't risk exposure and harassment, while I am admittedly a strong person, I am not impervious to everything, and even I have a breaking point."

The blonde beauty could only stare at the brunette, her mouth opening and closing a few times as she tried to will the words to leave her mouth. "I'm attracted to girls."

The random blurb shocked Rachel despite her open mind, it wasn't that she had an issue with homosexuality, everyone knew about her fathers, but Quinn Fabray was the last person she expected to harbor such feelings and such a secret. The young mother didn't waver her eye contact with Rachel as she waited for the girl's response, "I am warmed that you felt comfortable enough to inform me of such a sensitive aspect of your life, Quinn, though I wish it didn't have to be such an issue as it is no one else's business, but your own, as to what you do in the bedroom."

Quinn felt her cheeks stretch into a welcoming grin, "It's true, if only everyone was as wonderful as you, Rachel. I don't even think I can tell my mom, I have put her through so much with raising Beth, she wouldn't be able to handle that."

"She might surprise you, Quinn, she may have responded poorly to your pregnancy at first, but look at how far the two of you have come since then. She loves Beth and spoils that child rotten, I don't think she could stand to lose your or Beth ever again."

"And what makes you think that I won't surprise you?"

Rachel merely huffed in response, and jutting out her bottom lip, suppressing the laugh that began to bubble up when a look of distress crossed Quinn's face. "You do make a valid argument, Quinn, and I wouldn't mind… getting this huge secret off of my chest. I am just _terrified _of the potential backlash."

"Rachel, I promise you, my opinion of you will not change, nor will I share whatever you reveal with anyone unless you approve of prior to any discussions."

The sincerity that laced the voice of one Quinn Fabray was palpable; Rachel felt it ghosting across her face, running down her neck and chest before going straight into her heart. She felt tired, tired of hiding a huge part of her life and tired of feeling like she was some sort of…freak.

"You were always right, you know." Rachel stared at Quinn, her eyes unblinking and her gaze unwavering

"I know I may have appeared to be a-know-it-all when I was head cheerleader, but that was just an act, Rachel."

A small smile tugged at Rachel's lips, "Please inform me, Quinn, as to what your inspiration was for you insults towards me? The ones where you questioned my femininity."

Thoroughly confused, her lips opened and closed as her mind attempted to formulate a response, "What are you talking about, Rachel? You… You don't mean…?"

Her eyes were wide and her pulse was rushing when Rachel only nodded in response.

Despite her earlier statements, Quinn couldn't help but judge and make assumptions concerning the secret Rachel had just released into their shared air. A myriad of emotions rattled through her frame; shock, disgust, guilt, shame, and, dare she say, attraction.

Shock, the first emotion she felt after the quiet admission because, sure, she may have made numerous insults questioning Rachel's sex, but it was never something that was taken into serious consideration. Rachel had small hands, smaller than her own, actually and her physique was dainty, small, and soft. There was no stubble or adam's apple, no signs that would lead anyone to believe the insults her and Santana would throw at the girl.

The shock wore off and transformed into a kafkaesque emotion; disgust, it rolled through her body and mind. What Rachel was is not a new concept to her, but it was always an out of sight, out of mind, situation. When she still attended church, it was sin taking a physical form, where two sinners would pro-create and their offspring would be the epitome of sin itself.

Even so, Quinn pushed those feelings aside, knowing it was her upbringing and parents who felt that way. Guilt replaced the disgust, as she was one of the reasons that Rachel was insecure as she was. Her insults, her slushies, her pornographic drawings, all of her actions that put Rachel at the bottom of the social ladder; it would people like her that would want to harm Rachel for something she had no choice over.

The guilt segued into shame as the girl before her began to tense and withdraw, inching backwards until she was pressed against the door, preventing her from moving any further. Her eyes, which had been looking into her own, turned down and away from Quinn.

"Rachel," she began, searching for the words to make everything better. She bit her lip as a few tears began to leak from the young singer's eyes, creating dark spots on the fabric of the seat. Her words escaped her and instead, she chose to allow her actions to do the explaining.

She tentatively reached forth, a hand brushing against Rachel's wet cheeks as her thumb began to catch each tear. She scooted forward at the same time her other hand tugged on the other girl's arm, bringing them into a one sided embrace. Quinn let one arm wrap around the diva's head, as the other snaked around her waist to secure the girl. "It's okay, Rachel." The shorter girl's arms began to worm their way around Quinn, gripping onto the older girl for comfort and support, "I don't… I don't think any less of you."

"But _how, _Quinn? How could anyone see me in the same manner prior to learning such a secret? This isn't a simple scenario, such as losing weight, dying your hair and getting a nose jo-"

"I know, Rachel, I _know, _I… I don't know what to say, but you're not any less of a person. I know I have never given you a reason to believe otherwise, but I promise you no one will find out from me."

Rachel sniffled into the girl's chest, but remained quiet, taking deep breaths to still her rapidly beating heart. "But… This doesn't explain why you were outside of Santana's house." She felt the smaller girl stiffen in her arms at the statement; she tightened her own arms around her, "Do you think anything else that you reveal tonight will be bigger than what's already been said?"


End file.
